For some reason I had the urge to re-read Arthur Golden’s Memoirs of a Geisha ( a book which my cousin might remember belongs to him… did I buy you a new copy? If not, remind me yah 😀 ) — definitely one of my favourite books, even if it was factually incorrect (though beautifully written) and incurred the wrath of the geisha whom Golden interviewed.

Then I re-watched the movie inspired by the novel starring the usual Asian suspects, and I remembered why I hated the movie so much.

So for the sake of old arguments (it was a 2005 movie), I would like to reinstate the reasons the movie didn’t do it for me, especially after reading the lovely flow of Golden’s words.

I’ve never liked Zhang Ziyi. I don’t think she can fucking act. The new Gong Li?! Pirahh! I hated her in Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, I hated her in Rush Hour 2, I hated her in The Legend of Zu, I hated her in Hero, I hated her in House of Flying Daggers, and I hated her in Memoirs of a Geisha. I didn’t even bother watching The Banquet because I know for sure I’d hate her in it too. Throughout the movies I’ve seen her in, she alternates between 2 facial expressions that denotes her as either a sulking child or a smirking bitch. Niamah, every time she has screen time, I feel like taking a blunt fruit knife to my creamy, slender wrist and very slowly and most painfully carve ‘WHO’S YOUR DADDY?!??’. Freakin’ Sanjaya in a cowboy hat is more entertaining than you, bitch.

Dear Gong Li, I love your older movies, especially your performance in Farewell To My Concubine. Your Chinese accent transports me to an empire long-gone, crushed by the power-hungry rebels and communists. But as the new era dawns and Hollywood beckons, I, a semi-ardent fan among thousands plead you to do us all a favour; stop conversing in English. No one understood what the heck you were on about when you babbled ‘n prattled in MOAG. You lost your awesomeness in the ditty movie. Sad thing is, it didn’t have to be this way. Tell it to their Hollywood faces, fuck you and your attempts to make Asians look bad with lame dialogue; I am sticking to Mandarin, so there bitches. But I don’t think it will happen because even if you so happen to find my blog, you wouldn’t be able to understand it anyway.

Wahai Yang Berbahagia Datuk Michelle Yeoh, you are a fine specimen of a Malaysian who made it big on the international scene. I don’t really know what else you should do, seeing that your last couple of movies really sucked; erm, The Touch, wtf was that all about?!? And the best part of Silver Hawk was Richie Ren doing the KRACK KRACK KRACK KRACKKKKKKKKKK!!!!! I heard Sunshine didn’t make the grade either. Let’s hope you are awesome in Mummy 3. Also, you were a young 43 in 2005 for MOAG. But you weren’t that young for girly-laughing scenes. I hope you kungfu-ed the director for making you look bad.

Ken Watanabe, please marry me. I am yours for the taking. I am going to make you a very happy Samurai, and I shall teach you how to articulate certain English words that you seemed to have so much difficulty with in MOAG.

On second thoughts, you kissed Zhang Ziyi. Perhaps not.

I hate MOAG the movie with a vengeance. It could have been so right. The set, the cinematography, the lighting, the costumes, the make-up were so beautiful. Why did everything else have to be so wrong?! I hate you Rob Marshall. I hate you Robin Swicord. I hate you Steven Spielberg. And I hate you most, Zhang Ziyi. Thanks for nothing.

There was the poster that Ryan Star signed for me. I didn’t request for that but he did it anyway, and although I am not one to keep posters, it seems such a waste to bin it. So I put it up on the wall next to my bookshelf. All these are like insignificant details that you don’t really need to know, but I feel so compelled to tell you 😀

I have so much junk that I don’t know if they are going to come in handy later, or I am just deluding myself.

Also couldn’t take my long and wispy hair anymore and went to get a hair cut this afternoon. It’s not easy to get a hair cut around here, especially if you are not willing to:

1. Pay a lot of money to get your hair styled and cut by an ‘expert'; and
2. Pay very little money and end up looking like Ernie.

My semi-regular hairdresser is in Kuchai Lama, and that’s a bloody long way to get a haircut. It’s hard to get an appointment during the weekends, and as Paul would ‘fondly’ remember, the guy took 2.5 hours to cut my hair… 😀 As I grow older, my patience wears thinner.

And FA would remember the amount of $$ we paid the last time we went to a different hairdresser. Vomit blood and decapitated babies.

In the end I took my sister’s advise and visited a hair saloon in Damansara Perdana. It wasn’t as cheap as the Paul trip, but it was nowhere as expensive as the FA trip. And here’s the result..

Heheh, so girly to be excited over hair cuts. I know some of you (i.e. KY and ST go to the Indian barbers… but their one-style-for-all is not for me!

Blah.

Anyway I was going through my CD collection and came across a CD that I used to love so much when I was about 16. — Backstreet BoysBackstreet’s Back!! Everyday after school I would go home and blast the CD out loud. Being 16, I really believed these lines, “I don’t have a fancy car, to get to you I’d walk a thousand miles.. bla bla bla but my love is all I have to give, Without you I don’t think I can live, I wish I could give the world to you…but Love is all I have to give.. bla bla bla”.

Yeah yeah teeny bopper suckers.

One day I was listening to ‘As Long As You Love Me’, and my mom was around and she suddenly sang the entire song word-for-word. I was bloody shocked out of my pinafore! She said it was hard to ignore the song when she hears it everyday. Somehow that kinda put me off BSB and I didn’t like them as much after that.

But the following BSB video is so NSFW awesome that you HAVE to watch it, or else.

So Boris Yeltsin died and Russia prepares to bury him. The only connection between that piece of news and today’s blog post is the funeral; even then it’s an obscure link.

I was talking with Serena on some things lost, and had the brilliant idea of listing songs for my funeral. I am pretty sure I’ve done it already, but everyone needs an update once a while, especially if s/he is still alive and there is time to change. For example, if I had listed any of Spice Girls’ songs for my funeral, I don’t want to die anytime soon before I can rewrite the list.

For the few of you reading this blog, I wouldn’t be alive to enjoy my funeral anyway, so you don’t really have to bother. But if you insist, well here’s how I want it to go (since it’s my funeral and I ought to have a say in it, don’t I?)

Assuming that my body was found after I’m dead (you never know when crime hits), I want to be cremated ASAP. That’s right; burn baby burn as soon as my organs have been removed to hopefully help other not-so-dead people. No lying in a coffin for 3 days, no coffin either. Just bundle my corpse with a mat and dump me into the fire; keep the ashes if you want to, but I’d rather you not do that. You can however play some Buddhist chants during my cremation. Not sure how it would help but maybe just for whatever faith left (I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to come back and tell you if it worked).

Then there is the party, to be held at the last residence I stayed in. Bring your own food and booze. Make sure there’s a lot of KFC original fried chicken and Hoegaarden. No blue cheese allowed.

As for decoration, I don’t really care, as long as there are blown-up photos of me when I looked my best. That would be when I was 15 years old, ask my mother for the photos.

By the way, should I reach glorious heights at my death, Mawisux is definitely not invited to the party. Dream on, bitch.

Make as many speeches and eulogies you want, but make sure you punctuate them with “SUANIE WAS GREAT, KTHXBAI!!!!!”

Now for the most important part — the song list. No bubblegum pop, no Celine Dion, no Beyonce, definitely no rap. To save your time on song selection, here’s what I demand at my after-death party:

01. Enchantment by Yanni
02. Playtime by Yanni
03. When You Were Young by The Killers
04. How To Save A Life by The Fray
05. The Freshman by Verve Pipe
06. Never Forget by Take That
07. Thunder by East 17
08. My Friends by Red Hot Chili Peppers
09. Snow by Red Hot Chili Peppers
10. Run by Snow Patrol
11. The World I Know by Collective Soul
12. Heartbeats by Jose Gonzales
13. Somewhere Only We Know by Keane
14. Run To The Water by Live
15. Come To My Window by Melissa Etheridge
16. Havana Moonlight by Spyro Gyra
17. All The Things That I’ve Done by The Killers
18. A Design For Life by Manic Street Preachers
19. In The Closet by Michael Jackson
20. Starlight by Muse
21. Champagne Supernova by Oasis
22. Imitation of Life by REM
23. Come As You Are by Nirvana
24. It’s Alright by Supergrass
25. Peanut Butter Jelly Time by Buckwheat Boyz.

Sanjaya’s gone I never thought I’d say this, but American Idol will never be the same without him. It also means that Izad is LATE in updating his blog, grrrrr…

The more I think about it, the more I feel for him. The kid’s only sevenfuckingteen. At 17 I didn’t dare talk to my headmistress, let expose myself with mediocre singing in front of the unforgiving world. Respect.

(But really, at least Sanjaya should give mucho props to Stern and VFTW for where he is today.)

Suanie, contrary to her postings, is a very polite and proper young lady. She can make fun of herself but she also has her serious side if you read her blog. To me, she is a thinker.

Sniff, so kind. Hugs hugs.

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SCREWED by The Oral Stage will be held at The Actors Studio Greenhall in Penang from 4th-6th May 2007. For tickets, call TAS Greenhall @ 04-2635400.

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Been having (good) dreams about Prince William for the past couple of days. Now that he’s no longer seeing that chick, I think my chances of becoming royalty by marriage has increased by leaps and bounds. Some intensive workout and massive plastic surgery, plus a one-way ticket to Britain should do the trick, eh? 😉

What’s with me and Malay movies? Heck I don’t even watch that many Chinese flicks anymore (but that is because I think no one can replace Stephen Chow as the slapstick mastah, and Zhang Yimou keeps making artsy-fartsy movies with weak storylines and weaker actors — erm, Jay Chou, wtf herro!!!!!).

Anyway, I caught Jangan Pandang Belakang last week because I didn’t fancy waiting 40 minutes for another movie. Sort of like a spur-of-the-moment purchase. The title is basically the age-old warning not to ‘look behind you’ if you feel that you are not alone, especially since ghosts and spirits are stereotyped to be sneaky beings who would only approach you from behind.

The movie began with a traditional Muslim exorcism, as seen in the photo below:

The evil spirit was captured and put in a bottle (to be thrown into the sea), but the victim died. Fast-forward to a couple months or years (no idea) later, Darma (Pierre Andre) received news that his fiancee, Rose had mysteriously passed away. I kept waiting for the part when he was really grieved, but it never happened. Dude, the woman you are about to marry and spend the rest of your life with just fucking died, show some emotion can or not?!

Anyway the circumstance in which Rose died was mysterious, so Darma and Rose’s twin sister Seri (Intan Ladyana) decided to do some CSI to find out what the fuck happened. Again, Seri perplexed me. Woman, your TWIN SISTER just fucking died, omg show some STRONGER emotion already!!!!! At least Darma cried later a bit, but Seri… omg takde perasaan ke?! Death?? Never coming back?!?!?!?!

But that was the extent of my grip. Mostly kayu acting by the main protagonists, but the rest of the cast were good, if not brilliant.

Moving on… Darma and Seri found a voice message by a terrified Rose, that she thought ‘something’ was bothering her. Soon Darma realised that whatever was bothering Rose was bothering him as well. Weird noises in the middle of the night, something knocking furiously at the door and stopped when Darma reached for the door knob, the typical shock shock horror horror suspense suspense stuff associated with ghost movies.

So Darma made a trip back to his hometown to seek help to rid the ‘gangguan’. Along the way, some stuff happened, pretty good even with my eyes closed…

I’d always wanted to go to Bangkok; obviously I’d never been there, and even though people tell me that it’s a polluted place and not the main to-see in the whole of Thailand, there’s just something about it. Can’t explain why, so I’m not gonna.

Since last year, me and FA had wanted to go to Thailand for Songkran. Then one night Terence messaged me that AirAsia was giving out FREE tickets, starting from 12 a.m. that very night. So I told my sister about it, thinking that she would be interested in the same deal. At the end, we booked ourselves a family holiday to BKK (the process included calling family members and the FA at 2 in the morning for their I/C details). No doubt some people would be asking, why is FA on board our family trip? I don’t know, it just happened. LOL.

We could only get tickets flying to BKK on the last day of Songkran. Reached around 10 in the morning and we passed by vehicles that were splattered with plaster (from the whole plaster+water tradition). Went to our hotel; the Chaophya Park, checked in, then went for lunch.

I don’t remember what we did on the first day. Probably not much, but they had Thai massages. Me and my dad were the only ones who didn’t go for it. We don’t like massages. Pinky was like, wtf you went to Thailand and you didn’t have a massage?!!?! Yeah 😛

Second day we had a boat tour on the Chao Phraya Canal. It was dirty, polluted, and many of the wooden houses along the canal were in serious danger of falling apart. Some houses were dangerously tilted, the middle part almost touching the water… you get the drift.

I asked our tour guide; an amiable chap where the residents go when their houses fall apart.

“They go to second floor.” LMAO!

There were many temples along the way, and the final stop was the snake farm before turning back to the main stream. Didn’t go in either; I don’t like snakes 😛

On the way back, we stopped at Wat Si Sudaram (I think) to feed the catfish. It was a great way to make a profit out of BKK’s leftover bread, but it was also somewhat fascinating.

Fireangel, me and one of my sisters feeding the hungry and greedy catfish